From the book ‘Vulnerable Communities in Neo-Liberal India: Perspectives from a Feminist Ethnographic Approach’
Edited by Deepanshu Mohan, Sakshi Chindaliya and Ashika Thomas
The book provides an ethnographic analysis of modern neoliberal India, focusing on the daily experiences and livelihoods of marginalized, insecure, informal communities in urban and peri-urban areas throughout the country.
Introduction
The Hanji people, a traditional fishing community in Indian Administered Kashmir, are facing near extinction of their ancestral fishing practices that have endured for centuries. Research findings reveal a decline in Hanji incomes due to unregulated development, unplanned urbanisation, and unregulated tourism, which has poisoned the region’s famous water bodies, destroying both fish populations and Hanji livelihoods.
Despite increasing struggles, Hanji women continue to endure and persist in traditional fishing. However, discriminatory policies and practices have put immense pressure on Hanji culture amidst rapid urbanisation, as Hanji women resist the erosion of their identity and way of life. Though facing existential challenges, the Hanji are clinging to their culture and communal traditions.
Methodology
The Hanjis exhibit a profound connection to their lake environment, leading to the traditional fishers hardly venturing outside their dwellings near the lake. However, due to the rise in population and the growing reliance on Dal Lake, there is a significant strain on the lake environment, encompassing its physical and economic aspects, which is subject to intense scrutiny and debate. Even though these Hanji villages are situated within the urban boundaries, they are mostly deprived of the various civic advantages often associated with the city.
The community in question persists in adhering to traditional customs and lifestyles, therefore remaining one of the less developed communities in the region of Kashmir (Rather, 2004).
The study was conducted in the months of October and November 2023. The Ga’ad Haenz population in Kashmir lives in and around the Dal Lake and Nigeen Lake in Srinagar district, Manasbal Lake in Ganderbal, and Wular Lake in Bandipora and along the banks of river Jehlum in Srinagar and Bandipora district. We visited the Ga’ad Haenz areas, which included Fishermen Colony Habbak Shanpora, Dhobi Ghat Mohalla Nigeen, and Ga’ad Haenz Mohalla Tailabal. Apart from these, we also visited the main areas with a concentration of fisherwomen, including Foreshore Road, Amira Kadal Bridge, and Hazratbal Market.
The application of visual techniques, such as photographs and video recordings, enabled us to effectively monitor and gather narratives from participants, as well as their work and immediate environment:
The community is extremely ostracised because of the stereotyping and their caste; as such, the women of the community who form the core of fishing operations had to be interviewed. We wanted to record some statements and videos about how these pillars of the community feel about the changing times and dynamics of trade. During our first visit, we were almost chased by some women as they thought we might put up a video of the interactions on social media; it was only after a lot of convincing and intervention by some male members that they understood the reason for using visual techniques. We realised that their agitation was a defence mechanism against years of bearing taunts for being lower caste. After putting their scepticism to ease, the women understood how visual techniques would help them put their views forward loud and clear.
These narratives played a crucial role in the research process. The graphic representations enabled us to better understand the women’s daily encounters and discern subtleties frequently overlooked in verbal descriptions. Nevertheless, performing ethnographic research proved to be difficult due to our status as outsiders to this marginalised society:
When we went to the field for the first time, we knew that some of our knowledge about the community might be challenged. Most of what we had read about them was from an academic perspective. When we went to the field, we realised that the knowledge we previously had about the community was misinformed and fragmented. We had to unlearn what we knew to get a comprehensive understanding of the community. The members were also reluctant to share all the details with us since we were complete strangers. The fact that we did not understand the level of marginalisation the community goes through every day, be it selling fish on the footpaths, fishing before dawn or negotiating with the customers, made us rethink our strategies and led us to stay with the community to understand them better.
As relatively privileged Kashmiri Muslim researchers, we recognised the power imbalances between us and the Hanji women with regard to our research goals and methodology. Intrinsic to engaging with the women was navigating these complex power dynamics. As Meredith Minkler describes, there can be a dialectic of resistance between outsider researchers and communities that have faced oppression (Minkler, 2004).
When we wanted to speak to some women selling fish during the initial days of fieldwork, they categorically refused to speak to us. They said that people take their interviews and make money while they were and still are selling fish on the footpath. We were constantly referred to as Tuhi (you people), clearly showing how they created a binary between them and us. The dichotomy was created because of the stereotyping of the community by Social Haves against the community, which is struggling to find a respectable place in the socio-economic hierarchy of Kashmir. We could sense from the voices of these people that they were affected by us asking them these pointed questions. This is because the dominant social groups have constantly asserted their claim of being flag bearers of civility and nobility. They have demonised these communities to such an extent that they view every researcher with mistrust. This constant stereotyping has been embedded in the minds of the general public, so much so that without knowing and understanding the community, they accept these stereotypes; on the other end, the marginalised communities also seem to have accepted the fact that these stereotypes cannot be changed.
Researchers from dominant groups may be viewed with suspicion and mistrust based on the historical trauma the community has endured. Even if researchers aim to empower the community by amplifying their voices, they may reject these efforts to avoid depending on outsiders for their representation (Bridges, 2001).
The Hanji women may have seen us as reinforcing their subjugation by allowing outsiders to shape their narratives. Most of the market of fishing communities in Kashmir is handled by Hanji women, so the gender barrier was not an issue here. Only our outsider positionality hindered our access to this community, particularly women.
Even though we had created a rapport with the community members, many were still reluctant to interact with us. We were constantly reminded that we did not belong to that community and that we did not know the sufferings of that community. The women of the community spoke about their hardships because of the lack of basic civic amenities and how we might not know that because of our access to resources.
Suffering from trauma and injustice from the dominant caste groups of the valley, it proved very difficult to convince them about the motives of our research. One female respondent, while rejecting our request, argued:
Upper-caste Kashmiris can only buy fish from us. They do not behave with us as a human, and why should I waste time with you, knowing it will only make things worse for us?
In general, the feminist ethnographic framework directed us to adhere to ethical values of dignity, agency, and justice at every stage of the research.
When we first went to the field, we spoke primarily to the male members of the family. The female members did not speak to us. When we tried to speak to them, they were highly reluctant to speak to us, so in order to build trust, we took along a female researcher so that the women of the community could find it comfortable to speak to us, and it worked. Having a female researcher with us gave us access not only to the public face of the community but also allowed us to observe the community in private spaces.
For this purpose, the feminist ethnography methodology for this study is informed by doing meticulous observations in conjunction with roughly 15 semi-structured interviews with Hanji women.
The male members of the community leave to catch fish before dawn. There are different reasons for that; one of the reasons we were given was that the women have to sell them in different areas, and they should reach there in time, so they try to finish catching fish in the early morning. A particular person gave us a different answer because he said that the fisheries department confiscates our nets, which is why we leave before dawn. This led us to change our plans. We wanted to understand the community fully; therefore, we decided to spend some time with its members. We accompanied the fishermen to their fishing grounds not far from the foreshore lake and stayed with them till the end of the day. During one particular day, when we were sitting on the footpath with the community members selling fish, a woman told us how the fisheries department people had been following us throughout that day. It looked as if the community and the fisheries department distrusted us.
The interviews were conducted using a semi-structured questionnaire that facilitated a thorough investigation and gave participants the agency to influence the conversation. This collaborative approach aided in addressing the ethical conundrum arising from power imbalances between outside researchers and participants, which may unintentionally suppress or distort the voices of underprivileged groups and individuals.
The community has been subject to many stereotypes by the dominant social groups. The community is associated with using foul language, unruly behaviour and living in unhygienic conditions. By spending time with the community, we wanted to check for ourselves how accurate many of these stereotypes are. We wanted to either consolidate the facts or demolish the myths surrounding this community.
By following feminist ethnographic methodology, we prioritised the collaborative production of knowledge through a mutually beneficial research process, empowering Hanji women to share their experiences and priorities in their own words.
As Resurrección and Elmhirst (2020) discuss, elevating participant voices as experts of their realities aligned with feminist aims to challenge hierarchical dynamics between the researcher and the researched. The multi-modal methods sought to capture a fuller, sharper representation of the Hanji women’s lives from their perspectives. As outsiders to the community, we tread carefully in surfacing and conveying their stories, continuously reflexive of our positionality.
On one occasion, a woman accused a fisherwoman of selling stale fish. She hurled abuses, but the Hanji woman responded with such calm behaviour that it made us question the notions associated with the community, and if they are right, then is the woman who is abusing the Hanji woman, in fact, Hanji or the woman who is selling the fish.
Our feminist ethnographic approach was informed by preliminary visits to understand trends and patterns amongst the Hanji community. This knowledge guided the development of the interview questionnaire using the framework by Coulthard et al. (2018) for assessing holistic community well-being beyond economic factors:
We went to the field with limited knowledge about the community. In order to understand the impact of the community on the ecology of the Dal, we used the help of some academic papers, mainly from a science background. Those papers had accused the community of being polluters of the Dal. When we started interacting with the community, we understood how ill-informed we were and how those papers had not been correct in understanding the fundamental reason for the pollution; we had just resorted to blaming the community for the mess. All our knowledge about this field proved faulty after preliminary visits, forcing us to revise our questionnaire, which enabled the women of the community to put forward the real story and act as an agency, which gave them a sense of hope.
We also reviewed previous research on the local fishing groups. Networking with academics, officials, and local fish contractors during fieldwork facilitated researcher access and trust-building with Hanji contacts. Our interview sampling aimed for equal gender representation, involving Hanji fishermen directly involved in fishing and 11 Hanji women running fish sales and markets. This cross-section offered balanced perspectives on how uncertainty and change dynamics impact well-being. The semi-structured interviews centred on gathering qualitative insights into evolving uncertainties, polarities, and continuity faced by the Hanjis reliant on generations-old ancestral fishing livelihoods juxtaposed against larger socio-economic shifts:
The current generation is unwilling to take up this trade. Apart from the elders who did not want their kids to take up this trade, we spoke to several young community members. Nobody wanted to carry forward this trade, and they felt that doing manual labour was better than selling fish. This is primarily because of the stigma of caste attached to this trade. The other reason is that there is a sharp decline in trade because of a lot of policies that have been disastrous for the community. The young generation is keen on taking up different jobs; many drive public transport, some sell vegetables, and some are involved in manual labour. They believed that other professions are more dignified than selling fish, and the economic incentives are better than in this profession.
Through the integration of empirical data and personal narratives from both men and women, we have gathered a complex and comprehensive story that depicts the challenges and perseverance of the community.
As outside researchers hailing from an economically advantaged class, we were cognizant of the power asymmetry and potential for inadvertently perpetuating the marginalisation of the Hanji community we aimed to support.
Aligned with feminist ethnographic principles, we prioritised reflexivity regarding our positionalities and privilege in order to mitigate bias. In the initial phases, we tread carefully around assumptions concerning discrimination faced by the Hanji based on the intersecting axes of caste, ethnicity, class, and gender.
Our semi-structured interview guide centred on open-ended questions to organically surface participants’ perspectives rather than overlaying presumptions. We intentionally created space for Hanji voices to direct the knowledge co-production rather than drive it through an outsider’s lens:
We wanted to show the uninhibited face of the community to the world, free from stereotypes. Moreover, the best possible solution was to bring the stories to the community members. We wanted to give space to the women of the community to bring out an unbiased narrative of the community. Through the interviews and our interactions with the women of the community, we wanted to create a space for Hanji women and give them a sense of empowerment.
As rapport and trust deepened, participants surfaced lived experiences around socio-economic exclusion, political disenfranchisement, prejudice, and violence rooted in their marginalised identities:
During our first interactions with the community, the women were reluctant to speak to us after developing some rapport with that community. One of the women who had earlier refused to speak to us told us that they have constantly been reminded by the people that they belong to the lower section of society and how the people’s behaviour changes when they come to know that they belong to the Hanji community. She said that her parents are willing to marry her in some far-off village to another Hanji because of the stigmatisation surrounding the community. One of the persons narrated that he was in love with a girl and how everything was going well until the girl’s parents found out that he belonged to the Hanji community, and they tried to register a false case against him at the police station.
The layers of oppression in communities like the Hanji stemming from restrictive state policies and upper caste socio-cultural dominance became clearer through their accounts and our contextual observations:
Most of the community members were critical of the state policies. They believed that the state had done nothing for them. When we spoke to the members who were relocated from the Dal, some said that the allocation has cost them mental peace, and they cannot fully come to terms with the relocation from water to land. The community members have yet to fully accustom themselves to live on the land. They still earn for the old times when they used to live in the waters of the Dal.
Similarly, the members who were relocated to the boatmen colony Bemina said that it looked like they had lost a part of their body after they were relocated. Many members, both in the fisherman and boatmen colonies, accused other people living around their colony of discrimination. The people at the boatmen colony said that when they were relocated to Bemina, the residents of that area began to sell their houses. Similarly, the people living in the fisherman colony said that the other colonies always try to harass them on one pretext or the other.
Our positionality as outsiders intersecting with the community’s lived experiences of marginalisation introduced methodological and ethical challenges. Participants expressed reluctance towards overt forms of documentation that could render them susceptible by exposing their narratives to the powers perpetuating systemic inequities against their community. Heeding these concerns, we adapted our approach to use non-recorded oral history interviews structured only around observational field notes.
By not directly recording sessions, we aimed to provide confidentiality assurances that the Hanji people’s stories would not be appropriated or weaponised by external actors against this vulnerable population. Additionally, surrounding community observers sometimes contest or debate what was being shared in interviews, signalling complex internal social dynamics around representation.